


Firebrand

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Series: The Thinker, The Feeler [5]
Category: Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Accidents, Anger, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apologies, Arguing, Bittersweet, Confusion, Developing Relationship, Emotionally Repressed, Explanations, Explosions, Fear of Death, Forgiveness, Impulsiveness, Insults, Major Character Injury, Misunderstandings, Partnership, Pre-Earth Transformers, Rants, Realization, Rescue Missions, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 00:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7866988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were many things about Heatwave that Chase appreciated deeply. There were just as many things that Chase did <em>not</em> appreciate; at the top of his list was Heatwave's impulsiveness. It was sure to result in trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Enclosed in the story is a headcanon credited to delkios on tumblr. I suggest you read that story first but it's not severely mandatory. If you want to read the headcanon, go [here](http://delkios.tumblr.com/tagged/rescue-bots) and look for "Everything's Alright".
> 
> If you want the short version, it's that some Bots have been part of scientific experiments which dampen their emotions to make them "more objective", but it just makes it hard for them to understand abstract ideas like "fun" or "joy" or "hate". Some of these Bots develop anxiety problems, obsessiveness, perfectionism, etc. Chase is one of these Bots.

There were many things about Heatwave that Chase appreciated deeply. He appreciated the firemech’s sure loyalty, confidence, justice, and care for others, even if it was all hidden behind a gruff demeanor. Most of all, he appreciated Heatwave’s friendship, the fact that he had noticed Chase’s need for a partner when no one else had.

Heatwave was the perfect way to challenge his knowledge of emotions, to work through some of the issues that had been hammered into him with his NET programming. No one else would have the patience for that and there were times Chase wondered if he would drive Heatwave too far, but even if his friend seemed impatient with his inept way of feeling—or not, as the case may be—he never left. He stayed true. Chase couldn’t say that about anyone else.

There were just as many things about Heatwave that Chase did _not_ appreciate; at the top of his list was Heatwave’s impulsiveness. He could understand that his friend was eager to prove himself and his capabilities as a rescue worker, but their line of duty wasn’t a race. It wasn’t to be taken lightly and Heatwave’s current way of rushing to the rescue was sure to result in trouble.

“I _don’t_ take it lightly, Chase,” Heatwave spat when Chase mentioned this to him, pinning him with his blatant, long-sharpened “get-off-my-back” expression. It had taken Chase quite a while to understand what that look meant and even longer for him to realize it was alright to ignore it when he needed to—which was quite often, he would add if anyone were to ask.

“Perhaps ‘hastily’ would be a better adverb, then,” Chase suggested, considering for a nanoklik before putting up his hands in a gesture he’d seen used for placating. “I mean no offense with that. I simply wanted to bring it to your attention that you—”

“That I don’t hesitate,” Heatwave cut him off snappishly. “Isn’t that what our line of work is about? Quick response time and all that? I think as a police Bot, you could appreciate that.”

“I do, of course,” Chase assured him. “You’ve spared several lives with that mindset, but there’s no denying that others might be put in danger if you’re reckless. The bot most endangered by it, I might add, is—” A sharp trill interrupted him and he checked the incoming report, revising the end of his sentence. “There’s a fire at a nearby energon plant.”

“I’m there!” Heatwave declared, springing into alt. mode and taking off with an added shout: “Don’t hesitate to join me!”

 _From his vocal inflections, I suspect that he’s mocking me,_ Chase mused as he transformed and followed his partner. The snide remark didn’t bother him as much as it would a mech who wasn’t a NET patient, one with normal programming, but it did send a prickly pang of discomfort to his spark.

It didn’t take long for him to reach the energon plant, but by the time he did, Heatwave was already tending to the billowing flames. “Shall I call for backup?” Chase called to him as he rose to bipedal mode. Heatwave didn’t respond, so Chase sent out an alert on his comm. unit and moved forward.

“I’m pretty sure all of the workers have been evacuated,” Heatwave stated once Chase was next to him. “They’re over there doing a count. You better move ’em back in case the energon gets too hot!”

“Have the energon purifiers inside been treated with fire retardant?”

Heatwave spared enough of a glance at him that Chase was able to read his mind: _“Do the flames everywhere give you a clue?”_

“Affirmative,” Chase concurred with his thinking, a bit self-consciously. “I shall attend to the plant workers.” So saying, he strode toward the energon refiners nearby, who stood gaping at the tall flames. “Excuse me, you there! Please move back to a safe distance in an orderly fashion! Who here is your commander?”

“That’s me!” one of them declared hurriedly, pushing through his coworkers. “I’m Powerline, officer. Do you think you’ll be able to save the refinery? The energon in there, it’s for several miles of this sector and if it doesn’t get out intact—”

“We’re simply trying to determine the safety of bots first, Sir Powerline,” Chase replied coolly. “Rest assured that we’ll do our best to save your energon. Are these all of your workers?”

Powerline spun around, sweeping up the swarm of anxious workers in a critical gaze. “Let me see, we have eighteen, nineteen, twenty…”

“Wait!” one of the workers burst out, lunging away from the crowd and grabbing Chase’s arm to shake him violently. “Jackscrew, one of our engineers—I don’t see him here! I don’t think he got out!” As if on cue, a heavy rumble sounded, preceding a muffled boom from within the plant.

“The energon!” Powerline repeated, optics wide in horror. “Officer, if it ignites and Jackscrew can’t get out, he’ll—you know what’ll happen!”

“It’s getting out of hand here, Chase!” Heatwave hollered, catching the Police bot’s attention.

“Acknowledged,” Chase called back, approaching at a jog.

“I’m getting low on retardant,” Heatwave growled, protective visor clicking over his optics as he concentrated the stream of foam. “Is that backup on the way?!”

“Yes,” Chase assured him. “When they arrive, they’ll be able to safely extract the factory worker still inside.”

“What?” Heatwave gasped, jerking partially in his direction. “Someone’s still in there?!”

“An engineer known as Jackscrew.” Before Chase had even finished his sentence, Heatwave was tensing to break into a run. Taking notice of it just in time, Chase caught hold of his nearest arm, stopping him up short. “Wait! We need backup, Heatwave; I have no equipment to combat the fire from out here.”

“You’re a police officer, Chase; waiting for backup is _your_ job,” Heatwave snarled, wrenching out of his grip. “So you wait! I’m going in for the engineer!”

“Heatwave—” Chase watched with dismay as his partner forged ahead without another glance. “Blast,” he cursed as he backed up several steps, optics widening as the fire rippled over droplets of energon that the workers had tracked outside.

All he could do was establish a perimeter until more rescue teams arrived, which felt surprisingly inconsequential when a mech was watching a fire burn. Even so, he would do his job. He spun around, lifting a hand to the crowd of workers.

“Further back, please, citizens!” he ordered. “Help is on the way and we need to be sure they can get through here to—”

A deafening roar, a blinding explosion of light and something hurtling into him from behind at breakneck speed ensured that he wouldn’t finish yet another sentence. When he regained consciousness, he groggily discerned that he had been turned onto his back and dragged several yards. Now he was blinking up at a medic who began asking him questions to see how bad his injuries were.

Thanks to the dense ache flaring in his helm, it took Chase a minute to recall what had happened. Once he did, he struggled into an upright position, pushing away the medic’s hands and gasping at the sight of the blazing plant. The fire had spread, devouring the building from the inside out; thick smoke swallowed the sky too and Chase scrambled onto his feet, demanding of the nearest firemech, “H-Heatwave…Has Heatwave left the building yet?”

“Someone went in there?!” the firemech shot back in disbelief. “We haven’t seen anyone come out!”

Alarmed spark skipping its pulse, Chase announced urgently, “My partner went in to rescue a missing worker!” With these words, he sprinted off, dodging past some of the other rescuers to a place where he could peer into the haze, hollering, “Heatwave! Can you hear me?!”

“Get back, officer!” one of the backup responders commanded, hauling him back with enough force that he stumbled. Pinwheeling his arms, narrowly catching himself before he fell, Chase vented rapidly and shallowly, pressing a hand to his helm as his optics nauseatingly refracted the firelight. He knew he should go back to the medic and receive further treatment for it, but that didn’t matter now. He needed to know his friend would come out alive.

His injuries weren’t the only thing dizzying him; this was the greatest rise of emotion he’d experienced in a long time. Fear…Why did it have to be fear?

“ _Heatwave!_ ”


	2. Chapter 2

Heatwave came back to himself quite abruptly, to blinding white sterility, ridiculous waves of dizziness. His body was numb and his processor wasn't working right. Everything seemed staticky and when he tried to sit up, he couldn't.

Where was he? Why did he feel so strange? Grunting hoarsely, he tightly shuttered his optics, waiting for what felt like a very long time before he reopened them and there was the world, clear and immediate. His back, aft, right side, and right arm hurt, but it wasn’t too bad.

 _Oh, frag._ Deep burns could damage nervecircuits. Heatwave contracted his vents as a layer of mental smoke cleared and he turned his optics to the damage the _real_ smoke had done to him. Some of his plating had already been replaced, but the mesh on his lower legs was covered only with synthetic bandaging. It was much the same with his arms. That was embarrassing.

Now he remembered. A section of the energon plant’s rafters had given way, pinning him down with the prone form of the engineer he was supposed to be rescuing next to him. He’d managed to pry them both free but he’d hardly risen to his feet before the energon purifiers nearby had exploded.

To be honest, Heatwave was surprised he didn’t have more damage. He swallowed roughly and glanced around the unfamiliar room, noticing the high-tech equipment, and figured he must be in a hospital somewhere. He had never been fond of hospitals, not since his sparklinghood, so he sought after any sign of an exit and found something entirely different.

His partner was in a chair to his right, but it looked all wrong. Chase’s usual impeccable posture had been abandoned; he was slumped uncomfortably low, at risk of falling out of the chair, and had dents and scratches scattered over his frame. They seemed minor, fortunately. It was rare and troubling to see him with his guard down like this, but most concerning were the bandages, similar to Heatwave’s, crisscrossing his chamfron and audials.

“Hey,” Heatwave tried, rebooting his croaky vocalizer and repeating more insistently, “ _Hey_.”

To his relief, Chase stirred and lifted his helm; he had only been recharging. Heatwave gave him a nanoklik, watching as he righted himself in the stiff chair and pressed a hand over his optics.

“Your backstrut’s going to regret it if you recharge in that chair again,” Heatwave pointed out. Chase’s hand fell limply down and his wide optics locked onto the firemech, who tried for a smile in greeting as he remarked, “It’s weird being the _patient_ in the burn unit. Hopefully I didn’t cause ’em too much trouble?”

He expected Chase to shake himself free of his surprise and say, “On the contrary—” before rattling off everything the medics had been doing to treat him, but aside from a slight narrowing of his green optics, the officer barely seemed to react to the words.

“Right. Well, I guess that comes with the territory,” Heatwave answered his own question. “But at least I feel okay. They have good painkillers.” His confusion mounted further when he received the same reaction, or lack thereof, from his friend. “Chase?” he prompted, squinting at him in concern. “You alright?”

Chase didn’t bother answering him, looking him up and down just as intently as Heatwave stared back. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Heatwave added, “Looks like you got banged up with some debris. That’s what the bandages on your helm are for, huh? Does it hurt?” The continued silence grew even stiffer and Heatwave finally took action, making a movement like he was going to attempt sitting up; he knew Chase wouldn’t let him aggravate anything on account of any worry.

“It did,” Chase allowed, true to Heatwave’s prediction. “If you ask, I’m sure the medics will exaggerate my condition.”

“Like they’ve exaggerated mine with all of these bandages? Have they told you if I’ll be getting my proper plating back any time soon?” Heatwave finished for him, trying for some humor. It had precisely the opposite effect; Chase stiffened, his optics darkened and he came out of his seat, typing something into the keypad by the door so it would close.

“What’re you doing?” Heatwave asked uneasily, optics tracking Chase’s movements as he began pacing the lengths of the room. “Chase, talk to me.”

“I’m at a loss of what I can _begin_ to say,” Chase retorted stringently.

“Well, you could start with an explanation,” Heatwave pointed out, a little annoyed but more bewildered. He didn’t like the looks of this. Now that he was standing, Chase’s bearing was even more rigid than usual—more than that, his shoulders were wound so tightly that they were trembling. “Listen, if you get any tenser, you’re gonna snap!” Chase made a noise low in his throat and Heatwave raised his eyebrows in astonishment. “Did you just _growl_ at me? What the frag is wrong?!”

Chase kept up his marching for several long kliks before stopping at the end of the medical berth, but he wouldn’t even look at its occupant. Instead he’d fixated on the locked door and kept it that way as he spoke, coldly monotone even through clenched teeth: “The engineer you rushed in to save survived with hardly a scratch. You shielded him from the explosion and weren’t so fortunate. You suffered second and third degree burns over twelve percent of your body. You’ve been in and out of stasis for nearly four orns and all that time, I wondered… _if_ you woke up again…what I could say.”

Heatwave had never believed Chase couldn’t feel, as so many tried to imply of him, but he had rarely ever seen him feel so strongly about something. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t in range to feel the usually flat, cool EM field. He could see it: right now, Chase was purely, genuinely, _really_ angry, and he seemed unsure of what to do with himself because of it. Unfortunately Heatwave couldn’t exactly advise him on it because he wasn’t quite sure why Chase was so irate.

Did he think it was unfair that the engineer had gotten off so easily and Heatwave hadn’t? That wasn’t like him; he should be glad that the victim hadn’t been harmed! “I’m fine, Chase,” he ventured cautiously. “Or I’ll be fine after a little while.”

“Then clearly this has taught you nothing.”

“Wait, taught me?” Heatwave echoed incredulously, sitting up further in the berth. “What’s supposed to ‘teach me’ and what am I supposed to learn?”

“That you don’t rush into a burning building!” Chase barked, whirling toward him. “You do not attempt a fire rescue with no protective shielding, no fire retardant, and _no partner!_ You don’t intentionally put yourself in a situation where you can easily become one of those in need of rescue when the backup you are supposed to wait for has not yet arrived!”

For a moment, Heatwave felt like the bottom had just dropped out from under the world, like he was freefalling into empty, disbelieving space. Before he could even think of forming a response, Chase shook his helm and huffed, but it was shaky.

“Your unruliness has been a recurring problem. I don’t…I don’t believe a partnership with you is conducive for my training if I cannot trust you to follow safety protocols.”

“What?” Heatwave gasped.

“Do you distrust me, Heatwave? Do you dislike me? Do you have something against the way I work?” He paused, shoulders drooping ever so slightly before he steeled himself and concluded, “You dismiss my concerns for your safety—you dismiss _me_ —as quickly as you dismiss safety itself. Do you think I hesitate out of cowardice?”

Stunned, Heatwave gaped at him dumbly, hands clenching around the material on the berth. He felt righteous indignation try to sweep up from his internals, but just as he was tempted to give in to it, he realized that it wasn’t righteous at all. Upon thinking back, he could recall several times that Chase had brought up safety protocols. Just before the fire…

 _“You’ve spared several lives with that mindset,”_ Chase had said, _“but there’s no denying that others might be put in danger if you’re reckless. The bot most endangered by it, I might add, is—”_

Then the call about the fire had come in and Heatwave had brushed him aside. Later at the site, just before he’d rushed in, he had scorned Chase again, implying that his job was to sit and do nothing useful. What if those had been his last words to him? With that in mind, it should be no surprise that he wondered if Heatwave thought him a coward.

“No,” Heatwave managed at last, aghast and ashamed. “Chase, I’ve never thought that. You’re one of the bravest bots I know.” He wanted to fidget, but the stinging of the nervecircuits in his back warned against it. “I guess I’ve been…leaping before looking, but before now, it was working! If I bend the rules just a little, it makes the rescues so much faster. At least, it _did_.” Lowering his voice and his optics, he admitted, “Maybe I was mad at you for reminding me that it wouldn’t work indefinitely, but you were right…obviously. I’ve been a slaggin’ terrible partner. I’m sorry.”

Chase blinked as he processed the words and after a minute or two, his unreadable expression softened, sadness flickering across his features. “You’re more than my partner, Heatwave. You’re my friend, my _only_ friend, and your actions nearly cost me that.”

“I’m sorry,” Heatwave repeated more emphatically, but Chase sighed.

“If they had—”

Some panic was churning in Heatwave’s internals now as he said again, “I’m really sorry, Chase! I didn’t think, I didn’t realize how I was treating you—”

“If they had,” Chase spoke over him, “I would have resigned my position.” Heatwave’s confusion must have been evident, as the officer shifted his weight, ill at ease. “I would have blamed myself.”

“But it would’ve been my fault!” Heatwave insisted. “Because I’ve drilled it into your processor that you hesitate when you shouldn’t, but you’ve been right to! You should! I’ve been the one endangering lives, alright? Mine, the civilians, _and_ yours! And it’s not going to happen again!” Chase perked up at that, seeming hopeful, and Heatwave pressed, “I promise.”

There was a short pause and then Chase slowly began nodding. “Thank you,” he murmured gratefully. “That’s all I wanted.” So saying, he moved back to the chair, seeming oblivious to Heatwave’s sudden wariness.

“So you’re not going to ask for a new partner?” Heatwave questioned uncertainly.

“No. I doubt any would take me; as I said, you’re my only friend,” Chase reminded him as he sat and folded his hands.

“And you’re mine,” Heatwave returned, finally feeling free to relax with that reassurance. “There’s no one else I’d trust to have my back.” Chase seemed mildly surprised with that response, but Heatwave had already made a silent oath that when he recovered and got back in action, he was going to make sure his partner truly believed it.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt goes as follows:  
> "I just love this series and your writing! Please write more ASAP! :-D Have you ever considered Chase having to react to Heatwave being injured?? ( or vise versa)" 
> 
> And because I love drama and angst between friends, I couldn't resist it XD I hope you enjoyed! Please drop a comment and tell me; I'd love to hear from you!


End file.
